


Unorthodox Princess

by KnowledgeOfNonsense



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cliffhangers, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapped, Missing, Nicknames, Royalty, Vampires, lying, wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:00:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnowledgeOfNonsense/pseuds/KnowledgeOfNonsense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were born into royalty, next in line for the throne. When a marriage arrangement combined with your father's passing make you snap, you flee the country and end up in a run down town somewhere in Texas. You meet Dean Winchester, and his brother Sam, and a whole lot of shit goes down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't call me Princess

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something I had an idea for, and decided to just go with it. I'm not sure if I'll keep it going, just kind of a part time writing theme, I just really liked the idea, so don't hate me please. Love you guys, and let me know if you want more!

Fled the country? Check

Abandoned your responsibilities? Check

Crapped on the life you were born into and saying a giant "fuck you" by disappearing without a trace in the middle of the night? Check.

Exiting a plane in Texas with no plan as to where to go from there, 80 dollars in your pocket, and nobody you could contact? Shit, check.

In all honesty, your 18-year-old brain had thought it would be a great idea to flee to the U.S from England, as you were sick and tired of the royal blood that pumped through your veins.

Oh, right, you were next in line for the throne, as you had no brothers and only a 6 year old brat of a little sister. You never understood why it was so important to uphold this tradition of keeping up with royal bloodlines. The U.S seemed to be doing perfectly fine without a ruling queen, and seeing as your country had followed the U.S in so many previous ideas and events, you didn't understand why they hadn't dropped this whole royalty thing.

True, you were a little biased, seeing as you were in fact the next in line for the throne, and tired of being treated like some goddess among people when you just yearned to be a normal teenager since you turned 13.

How had this all begun? Well, the death of your father, the King, had sent you into a rebellious and impulsive phase. You snapped at your maids, ditched out on many of your duties, and even made a few headlines after getting caught by the royal guard in the middle of the city, sneaking around town, struggling to attach yourself to that small rush of freedom you experienced whenever you were able to escape the clutches of your overbearing mother, the Queen.

The previous morning had been your tipping point. You were woken earlier than usual, a last minute tea had been arranged for some sort of meeting, and you had no choice in the matter, and were expected to attend.

You were grumpy to begin with, but the death of your father had really taken it's toll on your sleeping pattern. Every night you'd cry yourself to sleep, wishing he were still there.

True, he had died young, but it doesn't matter how many people are hired to protect you, or how many royal physicians and trained doctors were brought in, you couldn't stop fate, and your father's fate was a stroke. The memorial was huge, citizens from all over the country attended and brought loads upon loads of gifts. You were seated with your mother the entire time, and didn't cry once. You'd been conditioned since a young age, don't show weakness, don't let people see you as a person, you're above them, blah blah blah. 

The real reason, however, you didn't shed any tears, was because it didn't feel real to you. You begged the fates that this was some cruel nightmare. You were numb during the entire service, and though you'd been asked to say a few words, you had to decline, you couldn't handle it.

The looks of pity that were thrust upon you from that point on, drove you mad. You were perceived as broken, which to be fair you somewhat were, but the staff, your "friends" and even your mother, couldn't look at you without some form of pity clearly evident on their features.

You'd been woken the previous morning and forced into the always too tight corset dresses. True, this was modern day, but you were still forced to wear gowns on regular occasion, especially on days where teas or parties were going to occur. 

You were wearing a simple, elegant, flowy gown. It was a light yellow,and had a rather airy feel to it.The top part was a tightly laced corset, but once it'd been laced up you found it easier to breathe than in the original process of tightening the laces.

You'd quickly joined everyone in the tea room, and frowned when you'd realized that the "guests of honor" were none other than the King of Spain and his son, Felipe. You had to hold back a groan, knowing that their presence could only mean that they wanted to betroth you...or attempt. Again.

You gave a light curtsy, sitting next to your mother, opposite of the King of Spain and his son.

Long story short, your father was no longer there to help postpone your opportunity to marry, as he'd known you better than any other and wanted your happiness. You didn't want to marry Felipe, mainly because he was a self righteous, arrogant, immature boy who only wanted one thing and one thing only - his way. For everything.

Unfortunately, since your father's passing, your mother had seen no choice but to start agreeing to a lot of things in order to set up your inheritance of the thrown.

The tea had ended when you stood, leaving the room without a word. Felipe had suggested you and him take a stroll through the gardens, but the last time you had agreed to that, it had resulted in him trying to force you to kiss him. You'd slapped him and stormed out. This time, you simply didn't answer, you only left. Your mother had called for you to stay, but you couldn't listen.

All this talk about your now officially arranged marriage, it made the tears well up again. You were scared, and nervous, and most of all just tired. You were tired of this life. You wanted normality, you wanted the chance to be your own person and not be told every day of your life what to say or what to do.

That night, you'd bribed the castle's guards, saying you were just going out for a walk in the gardens and you'd be back in a while, you just needed time to think. Of course, your skill of begging came in handy, and he took pity on you, much to your distaste, and let you out, saying he'd cover for you. He too had known how much of a struggle you'd had the past few weeks, and having a teenage daughter himself, he thought the best way for you to cope was some alone time outside.

He had no reason to be suspicious, as you were in a dress, and you couldn't get very far in a long gown, so he took your word when you said you'd just needed a walk and time to think in the fresh air. 

Oops.

You'd snuck out through the walls, a backpack you'd tossed out your window on your back. You had changed into one of your few pairs of jeans and a loose t-shirt, and a black hoodie. Your long, (H/c) hair was in front of your face, helping hide your features. It also helped you were wearing makeup, more than the usual. 

You'd managed to catch the last train, heading for the airport. You'd managed to get about 1000$ from the royal treasury that morning, and you'd left a note saying you'd return it one day. You'd also left a note for your mother in your room, telling her you couldn't handle these duties you were born with, and that your princess little sister would make a much better queen on day.

You boarded the plane with no issue, but seeing as you'd bought a first class ticket, you were left with about 120 dollars, but you figured you could probably figure out how to earn more or find more. 'Murica, the land of opportunity. 

So, back to the present, after flying all night and waking up in a new country, 80$ in your pocket after a bus ticket and breakfast, the clothes in your backpack (along with that dress you'd been wearing, you couldn't just leave it in the garden.) you were stuck.

You had managed to find a somewhat decent gas station and cleaned yourself up, washing off all the makeup you'd put on and replacing it with your simple routine of a little bit of mascara, some bb cream, and some lipgloss. You tugged a brush through your hair, sighing. You'd always had long hair, seeing as it was most suitable for a princesses image, despite you begging to have it short when you was 9. 

True, you liked your hair long, but you'd been forced to have it so proper all the time, and you were kind of liking this messy bed head look in public. 

You sighed, turning and leaving the gas station bathroom, stopping to buy some gum, thanking the clerk for letting you use the restroom. You noticed a magazine that had your face on the front, covered by a giant question mark. It was titled "Princess MIA after royal engagment announced" and a feeling of panic rose in you. You hoped the clerk didn't noticed you, and you quickly left the gas station.

After You left the building, you crossing the road to the motel on the other side of the street, thinking you might get a cheap room and try to figure out what your next move should be. Although you were basically stuck here for now, you didn't regret leaving the cushy life back home, this was the most exciting thing you'd ever done in your life, and you couldn't help the feeling of being closer to your dad now that you were alone. 

You were so focused on what you were thinking about, you weren't paying attention to where you were going. You had been crossing that road, and a car came to a screeching halt, stopping less than a foot away from hitting you. You couldn't even scream, your eyes had gone wider than an owls. 

In front of you was a sleek, black, 67 chevy impala, and the only reason you knew this was because it was your dad's favourite kind of car. You didn't move, eyes frozen on the driver, who was watching you in return. Your heart was in your throat, and you flinched when the door swung open and he stepped out. You took a step back, and he stopped, tilting his head.

"You okay sweetheart?" He called, his voice low and gruff. You didn't reply, just nodded twice, eyes still wide as you watched him.

"You sure? You look a little lost." He said, stepping forward casually again. You took another step back, hand clutched on the strap of your backpack. 

"I'm fine thank you." You replied, and he raised an eyebrow, obviously picking up your accent. 

"How much money do you have with you?" He asked, and you froze, not sure what compelled you to reply. You really were not cut out for this stuff.

"80 dollars." You replied, noticing now that your legs felt shaky.

"You're not going to make it very far with 80 bucks princess." He said with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling in the light. You sharply inhaled.

"Don't. Call me that." You muttered, breaking his gaze and squeezing your eyes shut tight. You missed the look of surprise on the man's face, matched with missing him walk towards you. You yelped when a hand settled on your shoulder, and looked up at him, backing away quickly.

"Hey, look sorry. Come on, you look like you could use a friend, and my brother's a great friend type, why don't you come with me?" He asked, and you bit your lower lip, shaking your head.

"N-no, thank you I'm fine, really. I'm just a tad tired, alright? I'm going to get a motel room and rest. I'm alright, really I-" You rambled, and he gave you a look, raising an eyebrow.

"That motel? I'm stayin there too. We've got a second room rented out, why don't you just use that? We haven't needed it." He offered, and you shook your head stubbornly again.

"No. Listen, I've had a long night, I just need to get my own room. I'm fine okay? Please leave me alone." You said, borderline begging at this point in time. 

"Sweetheart, you listen. I'm not about to let a pretty thing like you fend for herself in foreign territory, and it's obvious that you'e got no idea where you're headed, and you barely know where you are. Just come meet my brother alright? We'll help you out. I swear we're not some psycho people killing rapists that lure girls into our rooms, alright?" The man said, and you winced.

"...what's your name." You asked after a moment of silence, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Dean. What's your name pri-" He began, and you shot him a glare, cutting him off effectively.

"Y/n...my name's Y/n." You said quietly, realizing now just how dead of a town you'd ended up in, because there hadn't been a single car drive on this road that you and Dean were standing in the middle of.

"Well Y/n, you hungry? Cuz I got some burgers if you want. You know what burgers are?" He asked, this time it was your turn to smirk.

"I'm British, Dean, not a troglodyte. I um...yeah a burger would be nice." You finished, the last part quiet again. 

Dean grinned, gesturing for you to walk over to the motels.

"I'm just gonna park baby, My brother, Sammy's in room 201. Just tell him I'm bringin' burgers, and if he is suspicious tell him you're not stuck to my shoe. He'll letcha in after that for sure."

You narrowed your eyes, confused as to what that would mean, but nodded, turning and heading to finish crossing the road, going to the motel and walking along, heading for the room number Dean had mentioned.

When you saw 201, you raised your hand to knock, hesitating for a moment, suddenly unsure. You waited there with your hand raised, eyebrows knit together in worry. You knew you weren't exactly street smart, you'd been raised in a castle for crying out loud, but this whole "come to my hotel room" idea was making you have second thoughts. You retracted your hand, turning quickly, only to be face to face with Dean, holding three bags. 

"Goin' somewhere princess?" He asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow.

"Don't call me that!" You exclaimed, trying to push past him. He quickly reached over, blocking your path.

"Y/n, you can trust us. We're not going to hurt you okay?" He said softly, giving you a look. His eyes showed no sign of any betrayal or ulterior motives. 

Your shoulders relaxed, the tears you'd been willing not to fall slowly dissipating. You nodded slightly.

Dean smiled, then moved, opening the door to the motel room.

"Sammy! Got the grub! And uh, we have company!" Dean yelled, and you flinched, staying outside, still unsure as to if you should take his word and trust him, or run.

That's when you saw him. A man taller than Dean, much taller, walked out of the bathroom, his shoulder length, brown hair dripping wet, likely from a shower. He'd hastily pulled on clothes, his shirt on backwards and fly unzipped.

"Hey Dean...uh...Hi?" He added, looking around Dean over at you. You felt like you wanted to just shrink, this gigantic man had his full attention on you, and you weren't even inside the motel room yet.

"Sammy this is Y/n. She uh, she's new in town and is..." He began, not really sure how to explain.

"I'm just new. And lost. A little." You managed to get out, stepping into the motel. Sam raised an eyebrow, exchanging a look with Dean, and then focused his attention back on you.

"Yes Sam, she's British." Dean added, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Yeah Dean, I got that. I just...You look really familiar Y/n, I feel like I know you from somewhere." Sam said, and your face went white. You quickly shook your head.

"No I...just one of those faces perhaps." You quickly defended, unfortunately raising suspicion.

"Hey, let's just eat okay? Save the chit chat for later." Dean said, unwrapping one of the burgers he had pulled from the bag. He reached in and tossed you one, and you quickly caught it, thanking your reflexes for actually kicking in for once.

Sam shrugged, reaching into the bag and pulling out a container with salad in it, and you raised an eyebrow.

"How would you voluntarily eat that? It's rabbit food." You said between bites of your burger, and Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking at Sam, then back at you.

"That's what I always say." Dean said, burger still in his mouth. You blushed, looking down. You'd always gotten into trouble when speaking your mind, and had been taught to keep your mouth shut most of the time.

"Sorry..." You mumbled, and Dean blinked, swallowing before speaking.

"No need to apologize princess, I'm just saying great minds think alike." He said with a shrug, and your jaw stiffened.

"Please stop calling me that." You scoffed under your breath, and Sam looked like he clued into something.

"Hey! I know who she is Dean, you're-" Sam began, and you shook your head.

"Please! I just...I don't like that okay, it's weird." You defended quickly, and Sam shut his mouth, frowning as he watched you. It was obvious he'd clued in as to who you were, but seeing the petrified look on your face, he thought it best not to bring it up for now.

"Fine fine, I won't call you the P word anymore, okay? Don't get your panties in a twist." He mumbled, biting into his burger again.

"No...it's...I'm sorry." You whimpered out, putting down the burger and standing.

"This...this was a mistake I'm sorry, I just, I'm going to go. I need to figure out..." You whispered, and Sam sighed.

"Y/n, we won't question you okay? Just stay, we don't want you getting hurt out there. You'd be safer with us than on your own, I promise." Sam offered, and you shook your head.

"No, I'm not going to keep you guys from doing whatever it is you're doing, I'm not burdening you like that." You quickly said, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"We'd be more of a burden on you than you would to us. Trust me, besides there's stuff going on in this town and it won't be safe to leave or come for the next few days." Dean added, and you knit your eyebrows together in confusion.

"W-what do you mean? Why can't I leave, I just got here it's not like anyone knows me." You defended, swallowing a lump forming in your throat.

"I'm just going to cut to the chase. Sam and I are FBI, we're investigating a string of murders in this town, and the killer is out there, somewhere. He's targeting girls, pretty girls I might add, who are new to the scene. You're prime rib for this guy, and I don't want you getting caught up in this, Y/n." Dean said, and you swore your heart stopped. What would your father be thinking right now if he could see the trouble you'd gotten yourself into.

"So..." You began. "I'm...I'm a royal fuck up and made a bad choice to fly here, huh?" You muttered, then realized you'd accidentally said royal. Whoops.

"Well, it's not really your fault, it's not like any city advertises murderers, except maybe any city in Florida, they thrive off of that crap." Dean added, hoping to lighten the mood.

"How old are you, Y/n, if you don't mind my asking?" Sam piped up, and you closed your eyes, not sure if you should lie, or tell the truth.

You settled on truth, seeing as these guys were federal agents and you didn't want to end up in trouble for lying to a fed, even if it was a white lie about your age.

"I'm 18." You finally said, and Dean blinked, tilting his head.

"How the hell'd you wind up here then? Did you run away from your house in England or something?" Dean exclaimed, and you frowned.

"Pretty much." You replied, sounding more bitter than you'd intended.

"Well, welcome to America Sweetheart." Dean said, finishing the last bite of his burger. You sat down on the chair again, staring at your feet.

"Dean, when were you going to go talk to that one local girl who's been friends with Samantha Richard?" Sam asked, lowering his fork.

Dean looked at the clock, wiping his hands on his jeans before standing.

"I just gotta change, and then I'll be going. You good staying here with Sam, Y/n?" Dean asked, and you felt a slight flutter in your stomach as you noticed the slight edge of concern in is voice.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine, thank you...and thank you for the burger I'll pay you bac-" You began, but Dean raised both his hands, effectively shutting you up.

"Don't worry about it. It's our treat." Dean said, before heading for the bathroom, picking up a suit handing on a chair on his way in. He shut the door, and Sam looked at you quickly.

"Y/n, you're the princess, aren't you?" Sam asked, standing and walking over to you. He sat on the edge of the bed across from your chair, and you felt the tears well up again. 

"Sam please I...I don't want to be that. I left that life and I don't want to be found." You whispered, and Sam ran his hands through his hair.

"Jesus, Y/n why did you leave? You're going to be found, your family...your kingdom they're probably worried sick about you." He said, and you rolled your eyes, suddenly angry.

"Listen here, Gigantor. I have spent the entirety of my life walking on eggshells. I've not had a say in any part of my life whatsoever. If they miss me, that's their own fault because they should have seen this coming. All of my "rebellious" teenage adventures about the cities the past bit got me in trouble, but did I stop? No! I'm not cut out for this god forsaken lifestyle, and I refuse to be molded and shaped into some porcelain doll who has to worry about an entire kingdom." You exclaimed, your voice growing shrill with each sentence as you let out a rant you'd been bottling up for years.

Exasperated, you flopped back onto the dingy motel bed, burying your face in the pillow. You were surprisingly calmed at the contact with the fabric, due to it holding the smell of leather and whiskey, something that intensely reminded you of your father. The comfort of the memory soothed you, but it also dragged the tears you'd been holding in for a fair bit of time, out of you.

You didn't lift your head from the pillow, praying to whatever god there was that the tears would stop before they became uncontrollable, but they were already past that point.

However, the light touch on your back broke your self-dedication, and you lifted your face, eyes watery, mascara running. Sam's palm was lightly rubbing small, gentle circles on the small of your back.

In truth, this Platonic comfort was foreign to you. Your mother, despite her proving that she did care about you time and time again, had never been the overly comforting type of mother. The maids and servants had done most of the care for you whenever you fell ill, whenever you needed advice there was the royal council, even when you'd had a small crush on one of the Duke's sons when you were all but 7 years old, she'd been the one to scold you,drill into your mind, that you were meant for greater things.

Your father had been the biggest comfort in your life, but only if he had the time. He was the king, after all, and kings had duties, even in modern times such as these. You were a daddy's girl, since the moment you were born, and you believed your mother somewhat resented you for that, seeing as she'd only married into the throne and you were born a royal, the first born princess in many years at that. That could be the reason your resolve had crumbled and your heart shattered after the king's death - he was your rock. He was the only one you allowed yourself to be yourself around, and that had grown to be an increasingly rare time...and now, an extinct one.

"Y/n, you're more wanted than Dean and I" Sam muttered under his breath, which caught your attention immediately, and you snapped your gaze to meet his, suddenly panicked.

"Why are you wanted? I-I...I thought you were from the government!" You accused, scrambling up the bed's comforter to pull your legs to your chest and lean against the headboard, attempting to distance yourself from Sam.

"No I didn't mean it like that, at all! I meant because people are eventually going to assume we kidnapped you, you're the princess, we're probably already wanted from some British satellite." Same defended, equally as quickly.

In fact, his words had come so quickly to him, you couldn't possibly think there was room in there to have any untruthful parts, seeing as it seemed to come so easily to him, it was natural, therefore the logic in his reasoning stuck with you.  
"You're right...I've already seen a magazine with me on the cover saying I'm missing, I'm just lucky the gas station clerk didn't recognize me, he seemed rather sleepy." You mused, almost to yourself.

"Honestly, that's gas station clerks for ya, they all work throughout the night so they're not very attuned to any sort of specific person, especially if you keep a low profile and don't get their attention." Sam answered, and you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise.

"Sam...t-this murderer, if he found me, he wouldn't try to hold me for ransom, would he?" You whispered, your worst nightmares surfacing in the back of your mind as you waited for his answer. He seemed to be pondering how to reply to you, but before he could, the bathroom door handle rattled up a storm, Dean obviously having trouble with the lock.

Finally, he managed to swing open the creaky, worn down door and stepped out, steam following him. Dean wore only a pair of jeans, and you figured he must have forgot his shirt. You'd gotten a pretty good look at his upper body, and the blush was probably evident on your cheeks, but hey, it wasn't everyday you got to see a man with as toned a chest as Dean's.

He immediately noticed your tear stained cheeks, raising an eyebrow and pinning Sam with a questioning look.

"Making the girl cry and I'm not even gone for fifteen minutes, Jesus Sammy, I'd hate to see what happened if I went MIA and she was left alone with you." Dean teased, clearly making the assumption you were all teared up because you were lost and there was a murderer on the loose, not because Sam, this giant ass teddy bear, was purposely freaking you out.

You couldn't help but flinch again. There was that term, MIA, the exact title on that magazine tabloid. Dean noticed you flinch, and frowned.

"Hey pri-kid I'm just pullin your leg. Sam's nicer than me, and a hell of a lot more comforting to be around." He reassured, and you smirked, wiping your cheeks.

"Yeah, you seem pretty rough around the edges, Mr "can't open a bathroom lock"", You mused, but quickly covered your mouth, as it wasn't your intention to actually say that out loud. Dean looked partially offended, scoffing.

"Go in there, lock the door, and try to get out on your first try. I bet twenty you can't do it." Dean challenged, and you sprung up, not bothering to look when you'd knocked over your partially opened bag. You walked to the bathroom.

"Challenge accepted!" You yelled before shutting the door, locking it quickly. You grinned, realizing why he couldn't get it first try, these door handles were cheaply made and from China.

Luckily, your father's weird obsession with you always being prepared, had you study everything, including different door locks. You simply pushed, twisted to the left, then pulled, twisting to the right to turn the knob. You swung open the door, a proud grin plastered on your face as you stepped out.

Unfortunately it quickly melted when you saw Dean and Sam, tugging back and forth the gown you'd stashed in your bag.

"Dean, drop it! It isn't our business!" Sam growled quietly, thinking you were still in the bathroom.

"Why the hell's she got such a fancy dress in here Sammy! Did she run away from her British prom or somethin?" He asked, a smirk on his face.

"What are you doing?" You asked, and the two men quickly snapped their attention to you. Sam shoved the dress to Dean, and Dean shoved it back.

"Nothin' sweetheart. This fell out of your bag an-" Dean began, and you sighed, walking over and gently taking the dress from Sam, neatly folding it and putting it back into your backpack. You didn't say a word, just pushed everything else that had fallen out, and shouldered the bag, heading for the door.

"Hey hold up! Y/n, I'm sorry we took out the dress but you don't have to leave, it's not safe out here for you right now." Sam said, lunging to block the door. You looked up at him, eyes teary as you shook your head.

"Sam, let me out. You know I need to go, I'm catching the first bus outta here." You whispered pleadingly, but Sam wouldn't budge.

"Y/n let us at least drive you to the bus station, it's not safe here for you to be on your own. It's going to get dark in an hour and there's no way you can walk to a bus station before it gets to that point." Dean intervened, his expression not revealing how worried he really was. You shook your head, pinning Sam with another look. 

"Sam, move. Please" You said, and he shook his head. You let out an exasperated groan, storming to the bathroom and locking yourself inside. You could head the boys hushed whispers, no doubt talking about you. You just hoped Sam wouldn't blab to Dean about you being legitimate royalty. You sat on the counter, hugging your bag for a few moments, then took a shaky breath, climbing up onto the toilet and opening the window. It was big enough for you to squeeze through, but the boys were definitely too bulky. You tossed your bag out the window, then pulled yourself through the confining space provided. You managed to fall out, landing on your knees.

Keeping in a yelp of surprise, you stood, brushing off your dusted knees. You let out a sigh, feeling a bit guilty so you pulled out your wallet, bringing out a ten dollar bill, enough to cover the burger they'd let you have for sure. You stretched up, peeking in through the window again and letting it flutter onto the toilet below, the lid still closed so it wouldn't present a problem of becoming wet.

You turned around, shouldering your bag, but stopped when you noticed two people, a man and a woman, watching you from about 12 feet away. You swallowed, preparing to make a run for it, but before you could get your legs to follow orders, the woman had rushed forward, pinning you to the wall with her hand around your throat. You gurgled, letting out a strangled scream before the lack of air made you black out.


	2. Welcome to the real world, Princess.

The last thing you remembered, was being hit...hard, and then blacking out.

When you awoke, you were in what appeared to be a barn. You were tied up, arms held above you by a harsh rope, and your legs pinned together by what you guessed was the same. You squirmed a little, and looked down, whimpering when you saw you were now wearing the gown you'd caught Sam and Dean arguing over. 

"Nice to see you're finally awake, darlin" Came a cheery, southern drawled feminine voice. You tried squirming more, but the rope was digging into your wrists and ankles, reflexively causing you to stop your efforts.

"Where am I?" You demanded, suddenly filled with anger. There was a loud chuckle, sounding from the left, and you looked over, squinting in the darkness to try and make out a figure, which was definitely male.

"A long way from home, your highness." He said, and your blood ran cold. You doubled your efforts, trying to squirm free, but it was a useless thing to attempt.

"Now now, no need to panic. We won't be holding you for long, just til we get our fill." Came the woman again, as she stepped forward. You swallowed, refusing to let the tears fall.

"W-what will you do to me" You asked, mentally scolding yourself for how weak you sounded, the shaking in your voice clearly enough of a tell for them to know you were terrified.

"Oh dear, we're just a tad hungry, and everyone knows Royal blood is the sweetest." She said, and you immediately felt faint. You always hated the thought of blood, and the mere thought of these...people drinking your blood like some psycho vampire wannabes, made you want to just curl up and empty your stomach of that burger you'd eaten a while before.

"How do you know who I am" You demanded, trying to postpone this whole you becoming supper ordeal.

"Princess, you're all over every magazine at this point, even we sometimes pay attention to the tabloids, especially for delicacies like yourself." Said the man, coming closer. 

You snapped, flailing around wildly, screaming at the top of your lungs in hope someone nearby would hear you.

"Help! Help someone!" You shrieked, but all that resulted in your pleading and cries for help, was a sharp slap to your face. You stopped, utterly shocked.

Nobody had ever hit you, let alone like that.

"Nobody's going to help you, because nobody can help you princess. Now behave an let us look at you for a little longer...we might just change you to be like us." The man whispered, licking your neck. You growled, trying to pull away but he held onto you tightly, his tongue tracing over your pulse point. 

"God, I can already taste you princess." He said in a gruff whisper, and you whined, trying to shoulder him away.

"Don't call me that!" You growled, but all you got in return was an unimpressed chuckle.

"Princess, princess, princess" Called out the woman, as she sang the un-welcomed title tauntingly.

"P-please just...stop" You begged, choking back a sob of fear. The man stopped, tilting his head curiously. He turned to his partner, grinning wickedly. Your stomach dropped to your knees when you noticed his teeth for the first time, glinting in the moonlight that seeped through cracks in the wall of the barn.

"Imagine if she were one of us...if we caught up with the others in the next town, Boss might take her as a mate...and then we might have a way back in..." He mumbled, and you shook your head quickly, trying to free yourself once again. You'd think one would learn after the first few tries the effort was a futile attempt, but you were in panic mode at this point.

This was a nightmare come true.

"J-just kill me already!" You screamed out, wanting this to be done and over with.

"Yeah, just kill her. Didn't your mom teach you not to play with your food?" Came the familiar voice you'd come to recognize over the course of half a day. Dean and Sam were standing at the barn entrance, Dean casually leaning on the edge of the doorway, Sam braced and ready to attack.

"Well well well, Winchesters. Didn't think that this sophisticated little thing would hang around the likes of YOU two." Said the man, who was still tracing his sharp nails along your neck.

"As opposed to the likes of you? I mean, you had to kidnap her in order for her to actually be around you two vermin." Dean retorted, swinging a long blade as he stepped forward a few strides.

The lady, female vampire thing, hissed, eyeing the blade warily. 

"Seeing as she was the one running away from you two, I can't say your confidence should be as high as it is...besides, I quite like the idea of her in our group..." Said the man again, baring his teeth as he neared closer to your neck again, his teeth lightly scraping the skin.

"Well I mean, we did find her again, kid's just a tad rebellious, I mean she runs from everything." Dean mused, and you didn't understand why he was joking at a time like this. These people, they were going to kill you, and the man's teeth were still mouthing around your neck. 

"I mean, you two seem to be more lost than her, seeing as you're so behind from your pack...word on the street is you two were too pathetic to be apart of their coven...you trying to use her as a way back in?" He mocked some more, but it was one joke too far.

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a strangled cry as teeth sunk into your flesh. You knew this...thing was feeding, and swore you could feel the blood slowly draining from your body. Your eyes rolled back in your skull as you began to black out, barely noticing a screech sounding from the lady wannabe vampire, and the man ripping his teeth painfully from you and watching the head of what you presumed to be his girlfriend...crazy crazy girlfriend, dangling by her hair from Sam's fist. He'd been quiet this entire time, just eyeing you, as you were blacking in and out as blood dripped from your neck.

"You shouldn't have done that." growled the man, lunging to attack Sam. He didn't get the chance, because Dean popped up and sliced off the vampire man's head, watching him fall to the ground with a satisfied smirk. The man had been so focused on avenging the death of his girlfriend, he'd gotten clumsy and basically, in a fit of rage, forgot Dean was still there. Sam was already rushing to your side, untying your wrists and gently lowering you down, working on the binds on your feet.

"I'm so sorry..." You whispered, the ache in your shoulders now extremely noticeable due to the adrenaline and fear fading away. Your neck was still bleeding, but you could tell something was being pressed to stop the flow. You were barely even conscious at this point, and it was a wonder you spoke at all.

Sam shook his head, pinning you wish a small smile.

"No, we're sorry. We should've let you out and followed you so you wouldn't be in this mess." Sam said gently, rubbing your back as he'd done in the motel while he taped the bandage to your neck.

"So use you as a piece of royal bait basically, princess." Dean mused, raising an eyebrow. You leaned into the comfort of Sam, looking at Dean with a slightly sheepish smile, or at least as much of a sheepish smile you could muster.

"Guess Sam told you huh?" You asked, voice a little hoarse due to your screaming beforehand. You were nauseous and surprised you'd yet to pass out. Maybe you hadn't lost as much blood as you originally assumed.

"He made me." Sam muttered, the rumble of his chest against your back giving you goosebumps.

"How? You're like a hundred feet taller Sam." You teased weakly. Dean chuckled.

"I have my ways. Come on let's get you back to the motel." Dean said, reaching out to help you stand. He couldn't help but look you over in that dress, slightly amazed he didn't clue in to who you were when he first saw you. 

Makeup's a bitch.

You went to try and stand on your own, taking a small step, but buckled on the spot. Dean scooped you up easily, seeing as you weighed next to nothing in comparison to what he could probably carry, and started out of the barn. 

Finally, you passed out, the overwhelming attack and everything that had happened finally knocking you out. You were aware you were lying somewhere, but you weren't able to even lift your eyelids, too exhausted to try.

After what was probably a few hours, you awoke, trying to sit up. You were on the motel bed, and everything ached. You blinked a few times, propping yourself up in a comfortable position to look around. Sam was out cold on the small couch in the room, his legs dangling off the arm of the elongated lazy-boy. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with something you couldn't quite see.

"How long was I out?" You asked, startling Dean out of his concentration. He stood quickly, moving to kneel by the bedside and look you over.

"about five hours. How you feelin?" He asked, and you noticed for once, the concern etched on his features.

"Like I've been hit by a truck and them trampled on by an entire football team." You mumbled, looking down, slightly embarrassed.

"American football, or soccer?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. You laughed softly, rolling your eyes.

"Soccer." You corrected, and Dean shrugged.

"Coulda been worse. Being a vamp isn't very fun, I'm glad they didn't change you." He said, and you frowned, reaching up to touch your neck. There was a fresh bandage taped to your wound, but you lay your palm over it anyways.

"Thanks...and I'm sorry I ran off I just..." You sighed, looking defeated.

"You didn't want me knowing you were royal, I get it." He offered, and you nodded, not meeting his gaze.

"I just don't want you treating me like a princess. I hate it." You whispered, and Dean snorted, causing you to look up sharply.

"Sorry, it's just, you're the most..." He paused, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Unorthodox?" You offered, and he smirked, nodding.

"Unorthodox princess I've ever met."

"Assuming you've met more than one princess." You smirked back, and Dean chuckled.

"Well, I've met a king." He offered, and you raised an eyebrow.

"And?" You asked.

"And I treat him like the asshole he is." Dean replied, and you couldn't help but look slightly relieved.

"You know, people are gonna recognize you if we don't figure out how to hide you properly...and if you stick with us, you're going to be in dangerous situations." He said seriously, and you frowned.

"What's more dangerous than people who think they're vampires?" You asked, confused.

"Sweetheart, they didn't think they were, they were vamps. All those stories, monsters, things that go bump in the night, it's all real. Hell, angels, demons, it's real." He quietly told you, and your blood ran cold.

"So...correct me if I'm mistaken, but I don't believe FBI usually handles...cases involving ghosts and such" You said, raising an eyebrow. Dean let out a slightly bemused chuckle, shaking his head whilst scratching the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish.

"Nah, that's mainly a cover to keep the actual feds off our back, plus we get into crime scenes and morgues no issue, so it comes in handy, ya know?" Dean said, and you nodded slowly, looking rather puzzled.

"So...what do I do now...?" You asked, looking up at him to meet Dean's gaze. Those intelligent green eyes of his met yours briefly, before he cleared his throat and shook his head, looking away.

"I mean, it's probably your decision, right? If you want to stay hidden, we could help but if you wanna go back and face your reality then nobody's stopping you...it's your life."

You immediately closed your mouth, scrunching your eyebrows together as your mind waged a war on itself. You were truly torn, and the inner turmoil you currently were facing, was giving you quite the migraine. You could go home, run back with your tail between your legs, and marry that chickenshit spoiled brat of a prince, Felipe, but that would also mean safety.

You didn't think you could ever be truly safe after being told monsters under the bed were real, and now that you were aware that these...creatures that went bump in the night existed in the world, you didn't really think the royal guard could truly keep your protected at all times.

Plus, being here meant you had the freedom, for the most part, to say, do, and act on your own accord. You were finally free of your royal responsibilities and duties that dragged you down emotionally, and kept you mentally exhausted.

You knew you should feel homesick at this point, but being so far away from where he died, you hadn't felt this close to the memory of your father since he'd passed away. It was almost as though the freedom from your royal heritage and pressure to live up to the family name, was giving you the time and energy to finally cope with his passing, whereas when you were back in the UK, you'd been thrust so far into the typical life of a royal, you'd not been allowed the proper time to accept him being gone.

Settling on that thought, that tiny little feeling of being closer to your father, you knew deep down you'd already made your decision, there was no way you could go back...not now...not after what you'd experienced.

"If...If you guys could help me maybe just figure out where I could go to stay under the radar, that would be amazing. I couldn't possibly ask you to just take me where you go, I can't burden yo-" You began, but Dean raised both of his hands, a light of amusement in his gaze.

"Hold it right there sweetheart, we're not just going to drop you off somewhere and hope you get a job, because you'd end up on the pole, and as much as I appreciate a good stripper I don't want to live with the thought of a kid like you ending up there, cuz half those girls get possessed. If you decide to stay in the good ol USA, you're gonna come with us so we can keep you safe." Dean said, and you quickly shook your head.

"Absolutely not! I could never allow you t-" You began, and Dean snorted.

"No, none of that royal allowing me bullshit, you're staying, you don't get any of the princess threat perks." He said, and you blinked, then couldn't help but grin. He was treating you like a normal human being, not some fucking china doll.

Before you could stop yourself, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug and briefly resting your cheek on his chest. However, you winced, as when you'd stretched to hug him you pulled on those stretched muscles, and moved your neck in a bad way, shooting pain throughout your whole body. You winced, pulling off and immediately laying on the bed.

"Calm down, you can hug me another time when you're not more injured than humpty fuckin' dumpty." Dean said, reaching over to grab a water bottle, offering it to you with an outstretched hand. You gladly took it, twisting the lid, embarrassingly with a bit of a struggle as in all honesty you'd never actually done it before, and before taking a cautious sip, shot Dean a warning glare, as he was holding back laughter after watching you struggle with the lid.

"Thanks" You said gratefully, then drank about half the bottle, panting a little once you were finished.

"Not a problem. So, got and questions about uh...everything?" He asked, and you pursed your lips, looking thoughtful.

"You mentioned strippers get possessed... is there a way to maybe...prevent someone from getting possessed? Maybe drink holy water three times a day or something?" You asked, looking a little embarrassed, and your cheeks immediately grew even darker when Dean burst into a fit of laughter. He stood, pulling off his shirt and you immediately averted your eyes, just out of habit.

"Calm down princess, just showing you what you do to prevent becoming a walking meatsack." Dean mused, and you risked a glance up, eyes widening when you saw a rather unique design tattooed on his chest, right over his heart. You tilted your head, sitting up a little more to get a better look at it.

It looked like a star, with the design of a sun around it. Truthfully, you'd always wanted a tattoo, but you always thought you'd get more along the lines of a feather on your hip, something hidden easily...but to each their own.

"This symbol wards off the baddies from taking over your body. so we're gonna have to get you one of these. Plus, our friend Cas will have to help wit-" He said, but was cut off by your scream, as a man in a trench coat was now standing at the foot of your bed, head tilted to the side as he looked you over.

"Dean, why is there a princess in your bed." The man inquired in a slightly monotone voice, while you watched him in petrified fear, unable to run or even hide behind the pillows. 

Sam ran out of the bathroom, looking worried, but groaned when he saw it was only Dean and this man who seemed to know him standing there. "Dean put your shirt on you made her scream enough." Sam scolded, and you knit your eyebrows together in confusion.

"Um..pardon me but are we going to just ignore that he just appeared?!" You asked, voice a borderline yell now. Dean was doubled over with laughter, but the man simply looked confused. 

"My name is Castiel, and I'm an angel of the lord, I can do that when I'm called." He said, and Dean groaned.

"You weren't called, I only said your name, Cas." Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose out of exasperation. 

"Yes, but many times you've only been able to get my name out before becoming unconscious, Dean, so I've resorted to just coming when I hear my name." He defended, with more sass that you thought was possible.

"Well since you're here, maybe you can give us a hand, Y/n here-" He began, and Cas looked over at you.

"The princess yes." He said, and you narrowed your eyes, glaring at him.

"It's just Y/n." You clarified, and Dean continued.

"She got bit by a vamp, lost some blood, pretty bruised up, mind helpin out?" He asked, and Cas nodded.

"Of course, this should not hurt you." He said, before touching two fingers to your forehead. You felt a tingling sensation travel through your body with a ripple effect, and sighed with relief, no longer in pain.

"How.." You began, then realized it was a dumb question, seeing as he'd already blatantly informed you of him being an angel. "Nevermind...thank you, Castiel." You corrected, and you were surprised when the smallest of smiles flicked on his lips.

"I quite like her, she doesn't shorten my name." He said to Dean, then tilted his head. "Is she going to be staying with you and Sam?" 

"Yeah, probably." Dean answered, and Cas nodded.

"She'll need the incantations carved into her." He announced, as if it were no big deal. Carved?

"Pardon me but nobody is carving a fucking thing into me." You countered quickly, pulling a pillow to your chest as a weapon if needed.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "It'll be fine for now Cas, we're just going to get her inked then head out to find the rest of the colony those two stragglers were from in the next town over, then head for the bunker. She won't need to hide from other angels or Crowley and them quite yet."

"Wait, who's Cr-" You began, but stopped, not wanting to accidentally summon anything, seeing as Cas could hear in the first place.

"King of hell, remember that King I mentioned I'd met?" Dean asked, and you slowly nodded. "Well, that's his name." He concluded, and you simply let out a breathy "Oh..."

"So, you ready to get a tattoo?" Dean asked, and you frowned.

"Wait, right now?" You asked, and he grinned, nodding. 

"Right now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thanks so much for the comments on the first chapter, and I hope this one is just as good for everyone! I would've uploaded sooner but I saw like...150 oneshots got uploaded yesterday and didn't want this buried.
> 
> Enjoy you wonderful readers <3


	3. Rules were made to be broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thanks to theawesometoris32 for her amazing help - I was having a hell of a time with getting my creative juices flowing and she contributed largely to the process of this chapter - Love you darlin! <3

You were in a daze- a stupor as Sam and Dean dragged you out of the motel room and filed into the impala. Buckled into the backseat, you stared out the window while mentally trying to prepare yourself for getting a tattoo.

The only form of body art you'd ever gotten was your ear piercings when you were an infant, and even that pain you couldn't remember, so you had nothing to compare it to. In truth, the most pain you'd ever experienced was when the vampire had bit you...maybe you could use that as a reference, but just the mere thought of what that monster had done to you earlier that day caused you to start trembling. 

You didn't even want to think of what might be your current state right now had Sam and Dean not found you in time. You didn't realize you'd shuddered until Sam spoke up.

"You okay, Y/n? Cuz I can get Dean to crank the heat." He offered, and you shook your head quickly.

"No! No, I'm alright, just thinking of..." You trailed off, shaking your head and plastering on your best fake smile, one of the smiles you'd used through every royal meeting you'd ever been even slightly disinterested in. "I'm fine, thank you." You finished, and Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't press any further.

"So, where you thinking of gettin' inked, sweetheart?" Dean piped up, reaching to turn down the music a tad. You bit your lip, shrugging in reply.

"Somewhere hidden I suppose...I'd prefer not to have attention drawn and I've heard tattoos can rouse questions," You answered, eyebrows knit as you tried to silently decide where you should get this tattoo. After all, it WAS permanent, and although this tattoo was kind of more there to keep you safe and in control of your own body, you still wanted to like the artwork on your body.

"Well I don't think a tramp stamp would be your style, could be hot, though." Dean offered, and you frowned.

"What's that?" You asked, and Sam choked, shoving Dean.

"It's uh, something trashy, Y/n." Sam explained, and you held up both hands, not wanting to hear anything else after you heard "trashy".

"No need to continue, I get the image" You replied, shaking your head quickly. Dean smirked, obviously amused, but he said nothing.

"I um...I guess I'll decide when I get in there, I'm better on the spot anyways." You decided aloud, more to yourself than anyone else.

"Meh, I've heard of worse ways to make a decision," Dean replied, and you raised an eyebrow, immediately curious.

"Like what? Naming your child on a coin flip?" You asked, and Dean shook his head, pulling into the parking lot.

"Let's just say a girl I used to know made the decision on whether or not to go to college based on uhh..." He stopped, and you frowned.

"Based on what?" You pressed, and Sam cleared his throat.

"Come on Y/n I'll take ya in a-" He began to offer, but you exited the car.

"No, it's okay, I can go in on my own." You assured, trying your best to politely decline, but Dean was already out the driver's side door and walking to the building entrance with you.

"Nah, I'm paying for it so I might as well be in there, right?" Dean insisted, and you clamped your mouth shut, knowing better already than to argue with a fair point. In all honesty, you just didn't want him to see you cry because you were so unaccustomed to any form of pain. The only pain you really knew was the pain in your heart and mind when your father died.

You simply went inside the building, flinching at the little chime the door made as it closed when Dean followed you inside. Dean held back a snort of laughter, and you shot him a warning glare before stalking over to the counter where a friend, petite woman was standing. She smiled, taking an obvious glance behind you at Dean, and when you saw the blush rise on her face you knew he'd probably winked at her. You rolled your eyes, then smiled at the woman.

"Hi um...do..." You paused, not really sure what to say. Luckily, Dean stepped forward, flashing a flirty grin in her direction.

"You guys take last minute appointments?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Of course, who's getting inked?" She asked, then added. "And any idea as to what you wanna get? Because I've got a new set of sketches I'd love to-" She began, but Dean held up his hands, halting her speech immediately. Even you recognized that the silent power that radiated off of this man was enough for this girl to blush.

"We're actually getting her a matchin' one sweetheart," He explained, pulling down the collar of his shirt to show the tattoo on his chest. You quickly looked away again, a force of habit, what can ya do about it.

The woman behind the counter, however, tilted her head, moving around to stand directly in front of Dean so she could get a better look. You wrinkled your nose as she traced the pattern with her finger a little too long, but Dean didn't seem displeased, in fact, he seemed a little into it like he had a small amount of pride for his tattoo...or his toned chest.

"Alright, I think I can do that. I'll trace it out and stencil it on then we'll hop to it. You two are a cute couple by the way" She added, and you frowned, knowing she was fishing. Dean looked stuck, but you were ready.

"Actually, he's my cousin. All the kids in the family are getting the same tattoo his dad had before he died, kind of a memoir right?" You supplied, not wanting to make things awkward for Dean. He quickly nodded - maybe a little too enthusiastically, but the woman gave no sign of suspicion. 

In fact, you noticed a small bit of relief flash briefly over her face. 

"Alrighty then! I'll sketch out the design and double check to make sure the pattern's accurate, then we'll get to work. My name's Bailey, by the way, but you can call me Red." She added, and you noticed the minuscule flash of a wink directed toward Dean, causing you to roll your eyes in turn. 

You took a deep breath, following her behind the counter to the back, the nerves starting to build up in your throat.

All of those years of carefully walking up to altars with perfect poise was lost as your nerves began to take over, awkwardly clambering into the medical grade chair with a surprising lack of grace, considering that you're a princess and all.

You blame it on the lethargy that was mucking up your brain, rather than the fact that you were really freaking out over the thought of a needle going into your skin again and again and again and-

"How're you doing sweetheart?" Dean asks, lifting one of his hands and placing it on your forearm. You take a deep breathe and slather on a nervous smile, looking over to him.

"Yeah, I'm alright, just nervous is all," you reply cooly. It's not exactly a lie, more of a half-truth than anything, but you have too much pride to admit that you're scared shitless. He quirks his mouth into a smile, making sure to look you in the eyes.

"It'll be alright, Y/n. Everyone's scared of their first time, hell- even Sam got the pre-tattoo jitters," he chuckles, looking away from you for a moment in lieu of the apparently fond memory. 

"Really?" you ask, wanting to hear the story to know whether or not his statement was actually true, but not wanting to poke too much into his personal life either. After all, he knew that you were a runaway princess and didn't pry when you'd locked up like a bank vault, so what gives you the right to? 

You may be a royal rebel, but you still had a sensible amount of couth.

"Yeah, he was so bad that he actually screamed before the needle even touched his skin!" he recounts enthusiastically. You can't help the giggle that bubbles up from your chest and found yourself forgetting all about the apprehension that you had towards getting a tattoo.

Before you know it, Red is walking into the little room, a little tray filled with various items that weren't already in the room in her arms. You look at her confusedly as she takes a seat on a stool beside you and asks you to slip down your shirt. You're glad that the shirt that you're wearing is loose enough to easily slip down your arm, and close your eyes to brace yourself for the pain.

You flinch when you feel something cold touch your skin, and let out a small gasp. It feels cold and wet, and you're surprised by how painless it is. What were you freaking out about? You barely even felt something. You really don't know why people make such a big deal over this, getting a tattoo is a breeze!

You're pulled out of your little reverie when Dean snickers from one side and the tattoo artist giggles from the other. 

"What?"

"Sweetheart, that was just the anti-septic rub." 

"Oh," you blush at your own bluntness, wishing that the earth beneath you would sink in and swallow you up with it. Then you wouldn't have to deal with the fucked up mess that is your life.

She picks up a razor and applies a shaving gel to your upper shoulder, and you instantly feel insulted, because you know for a fact that your shoulder isn't that fucking hairy. 

She must have had patients that have verbally commented on this, and so she explains the importance of shaving the area that is to be inked; that even the finest of hairs could cause the most serious of mistakes or infections.

After hearing that, you decide to quit aiming your ignorance at Red, the poor woman and just let her do her job.

She cleans up your shoulder again and places a piece of paper over the spot she'd just meticulously cleaned, wetting it with a damp rag and peeling it off only moments later.

"What was that?" you wonder out loud. Dean notices that Red is putting all of her focus into making sure that all of the transferable ink had gotten onto your skin, and so he answered for her.

"That's a thermal transfer. That right there just saved us what could have been 2 hours of tracing. This way all she has to do is follow that stencil's lines with the needle, and so the chances of making a mistake are very minimum. You're pretty damn lucky too- our's took 4 hours each." he huffs. 

You suppose that you're lucky, considering that this way she was less likely to make a permanent fuck up on your body.

That was a thought that you found to be rather comforting, and you tried to hold onto that thought while she prepped the needle.

"Are you ready?" she asks sweetly. She's holding the tattoo gun close to your shoulder, ready to go when you were. Your whole body trembled as she brought it closer to your skin, the quiet whirr of the machine getting louder.

You freeze. 

"Wait, Dean please leave" You begged quickly, and Dean frowned, looking a little confused.

"You sure? Cuz it sometimes helps to cling onto someone's hand, an' I don't mind if you break a knuckle or two of mine sweetheart"

"Please Dean, I need to do this on my own," You begged again. This wasn't some mental triumph of independence you were trying to win, you just needed to learn how to do things on your own, and this was the biggest step you could take right now.

He looked skeptical but didn't push, knowing not to cross the line and disrespect your wishes. He shot a wink at Red, then smiled.

"Try not to scream too much Sweetheart, and try not to fuck up the ink there Red, I'm putting her life in your hands." He teased, which surprisingly put you eat ease....until he was gone and the needle whirred up again.

It's pure agony when the needle pierces through your skin, and you stifle a scream that tried to rip through your throat. It burnt so bad, the constant feeling of being pricked over and over again being too much for your sensitive body.

You were unaccustomed to pain, you knew that, but this wasn't something you could ever imagine feeling. Ever

"You're doing just fine, Y/n. It'll feel a little better if you relaxed a bit." Red offered, knowing just how painful that this must be for you, seeing as she was more inked than anyone you'd ever seen outside of a movie.

Taking a deep breath and deciding to focus on the different pictures tattoos on the wall, you began to relax, feeling the sharp pain turning into more of a dull throb as she worked.

By this point, it was more annoying than anything really.

You're not sure how long it's been, but you felt relief wash over your body when she whispered those three magical words.

"You're all done!" she exclaimed happily, obviously very pleased with her art. Red put the needles in the appropriate waste bags and recapped the used ink, instructing you not pull your sleeve back up just yet.

When she came back over she had a small jar of vaseline, a hand mirror, and a roll of gauze in hand. She sat back down beside you and you hissed in pain as she slathered the odd smelling ointment into your freshly pricked skin. 

She grabbed your attention before you could protest and held the mirror up to your shoulder, asking you if you'd like to see.

"Yes! I mean, please yes I'd like to see," you exclaim with a huff of laughter. After all of that pain that you'd just experienced you deserved, at least, a glimpse of the new tat adorning your used to be virgin skin.

Craning your neck to see it better, you gasped at the sight of it. It stood stark against your (S/C) skin, the black ink shining brightly underneath the sheen of the medicated ointment.

You were surprised to find that it looked... beautiful. Even more so because of it's meaning; to act as a talisman that would forever protect you from harm. 

Well, at least, the type of harm that these guys dealt with. 

When you'd told her that you were satisfied, she placed the mirror back down and placed a white bandage on your skin.

As she wrapped and bandaged the tattoo she explained to both you and Dean the basics of aftercare, seeing as Dean had been called back in once you'd been declared finished. While you listened intently as you were hearing this for the first time, it was only a means of a refresher for Dean as he had already gone through the process alongside his brother.

Dean offered you a hand and you took it, happy that everything was all done, and proud of yourself for doing it by yourself too.

The two of you followed Red out to the front of the parlor so that Dean could pay the spectacular artist her well-earned money, and you couldn't help but notice the large tip that he slipped into her apron pocket.

She blushed and stuttered but before she could try to give it back to him the two of you were already through the doors, the bell strung atop it wishing you a tinkling goodbye. You were ahead of Dean, so you missed the fleeting wink he'd flashed to Red before following you to the Impala.

Sam was passed out on his seat, head leaning heavily on the glass window. You were able to hear him snoring through the car.

Before Dean even had the chance, the unusual amount of mischief that was present in your system as of late, rose to the surface and you bolted to the door, pulling the handle and whipping it open.

Sam had no seatbelt on, so he rolled out of the car, managing to break his fall with his arms as he woke up mid drop. He'd let out a monstrous yell of surprise. You were grinning ear to ear, but the look on Sam's face made the smile fade immediately. 

Maybe you should let sleeping bears lie.

"Sam?" You squeaked, fear rising a little when you saw the dangerous expression he wore.

"Y/n, I don't think you want to start a prank war with us," He warned, you raising your eyebrow as he began to relax.

"What? It was just a harmless joke, and you weren't hurt so I don't see why-" You began, but Dean cleared his throat, causing you to shut your yap.

"Y/n Sammy's right, it's best not to start things like that, we tend to get a little uh...well we push boundaries sweetheart, and I don't think you'd like to be apart of that, seein' as you're fresh into this badass life. It takes a lot of gettin' used to." Dean explained, to which Sam bitterly laughed.

"That's an understatement Y/n. Trust us, you don't want to start this because we don't finish until we win." Sam added, flashing a grin. He obviously had no hard feelings, but you didn't take warnings like that lightly.

Although, you had to admit that the thought of a prank war would be pretty fun, even with the warning. 

Probably the dumbest idea you'd ever had, but curiosity killed the cat and seeing as you weren't a pussy, you had no other choice in your mind than to accept the challenge.

You just didn't know how to begin the prank war, that you'd been specifically told not to start.

Dean and Sam should both know by now, however, that you weren't exactly the type of royal to follow rules - you deliberately disobeyed. Every. Single. Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what your thoughts are! Any suggestions on what you'd like to see in future chapters? <3 Love you all and thank you for the kudos and comments!


	4. Wakey Wakey, Eggs and Bakey.

Leaning your head against the cool, smooth glass window of Dean's baby, you gazed out the transparent surface as you let your thoughts run rampant, the car thundering along the smooth asphalt, drowning out the steady tapping of Dean's fingers drumming against the wheel.

You knew, god you knew it was a bad idea, but you wanted to let loose and have fun...and a prank war sounded like the funniest and more exhilarating possible way to do that.

These boys were pros; that much was clear, but then again, you had the ability to really think on your feet...or at least that's what you thought, considering you'd managed to survive a fucking vampire kidnapping.

Your (H/c) locks dangled from behind your ears, brushing then quickly out of your line of sight. Those long locks that had been apart of your princess life, were now seeming irrelevant. Your shoulder was a little sore from the tattoo, neck even more so from the bite of that vampire...but you'd survived.

You made a mental note to cut your hair the second the opportunity arose, no longer wanting to have your hair falling into your face constantly. You didn't want it SUPER short, of course, as you didn't quite like the picture in your mind of what you'd look like with a pixie cut, but maybe a long lob would be suiting...yes, that's what you'd do.

With that settled in your mind, the random thought drifting to the back of your thoughts, you were able to focus on how you'd first prank the monster fighting brothers. 

Of course, you knew better than to lay a finger on Dean's car; He would literally murder your dumb ass should you so much as put carlashes on baby.

His room however, although she'd never seen it, could potentially be a good place to get him...possibly while he slept. 

You eventually dazed off against the window, unaware of the conversation between Sam and Dean ~ They had seen in your expression that you weren't going to heed their warning, and were most definitely plotting some sort of retaliation should they prove to be right and you act upon your clear intent of beginning a prank war. 

You woke with a start, realizing the car was no longer moving. It was pitch black outside, but it seemed like you'd stopped in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. 

Dean had parked the car outside what seemed to be an abandoned mill or building of some sorts. You were confused as to why he'd stopped here, but when you looked from the window, to the front seat to give him a questioning look, you realized you were completely alone in the Impala. 

Dread seeped through you as you realized you were alone, panic beginning to bubble and boil beneath the surface. Where had they gone? Why didn't they wake you? Were you really so heavy of a sleeper that they could park a car and slam both doors without even waking up a fraction?

As your panic grew, you unbuckled your seatbelt quickly, turning back to the window.

You shrieked in surprise, as Dean tapped lightly on the window, grinning ear to ear.

"Morning chika!"

Dean exclaimed, the sound slightly muffled from the glass separating you from him. He had a look of mischief plastered on his face, and you frowned in slight worry; what the hell was he planning right now?

You exited the car, closing baby's backseat door behind you as Dean leaned against her polished, shiny black exterior. 

"C'mon, let me give you the grand tour!"

He exclaimed, turning and leading you to a small entrance dipping into the ground, which in all honesty, looked like the entrance to a sewer, not a home above all homes.

You obediently followed, growing nervous as the thought of being underground, but surprisingly enough, once inside, and you turned around, the "sewer entrance" opened up into...well, an extremely fancy and lavish bunker. It was almost like an underground mansion. Smaller than a mansion of course, but still surprising to one who wouldn't expect it; such as yourself.

Now, large buildings and lavish surroundings had never daunted you, as you'd grown up around antiques of all sorts...but you were immediately facing inner turmoil; emotions clashing between nervous and the feeling of being welcomed home for the first time. 

The books lacing the walls, the statues...everything gave you a sense of wonder, and a sense of the heebie-jeebies. It was all ancient, that much you could tell, but since Sam and Dean told you about the truth of the Supernatural world...well, you couldn't help but wonder if these things could potentially be haunted, or have a history that was dangerous.

Dean seemed to read your mind, bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Sweetheart, everything here is safe...as long as you don't touch most of it, we're good. Knives swords and spears, maybe leave those to Sam and me, they're dangerous to play around with"

He warned, suddenly serious. He viewed you as a kid, and kids weren't supposed to play with knives or run with scissors, that much he knew. 

You may have been 18, technically viewed by the law as a legal adult, but seeing as you were neither a legal citizen, along with being a runaway princess, well, you were a child to the two men who were taking you in. 

You walked down the stairs after Dean, gazing around the room in awe and wonder; it was beautiful. For two otherwise messy men, they sure did keep this place spic and span...although, you had an inkling that most of the cleaning was left to Sam, while most of the food activities were left to Dean. 

"Alright pri- I mean Y/N, lemme give you the tour. So here's the library area, kind of like a gameplan war room type situation here."

Dean began, leading you through the halls of the Bunker, giving you a brief history on the Men of Letters. 

You tried to listen, you truly really did, but you were so focused on your surroundings that everything about his stories kind of just went in one ear and straight out the other. 

Dean finally shut up, realizing you were too busy taking in the Bunker to actually absorb it's history. He never was good at explaining factual stories, that was Sam's niche. 

He showed you the kitchen and bathrooms, along where laundry got done. Apparently the bunker had it's own generators and water supply, so it would likely never run short. You were honestly impressed with the size of this hidden treasure, and felt yourself feeling more at home than you ever had within the palace walls back in the UK.

Dean continued down the hall, leading you to what you assumed was the bedrooms.

"Alright, this is my room. Absolutely nobody goes in unless invited. If you're invited once it doesn't mean you can come and go as you please, you ask first."

He said seriously, and you wondered what kind of secrets he was hiding behind that closed door with the sign "No trespassing" plastered on the wooden surface. 

You nodded quickly, but you secretly had every intention to sneak in there one day just to take a peek at what wonders lay behind Dean's bedroom door. 

He showed you Sam's bedroom, then led you to a closed door; unlocking it with a key. You frowned in concern, but he smiled reassuringly. 

"This was just a storage room before, kept it locked for safety and never took the lock off. I'll do that before you go to sleep so you don't feel like you can be trapped in here."

He explained, and you let your shoulders relax a fraction. He swung the door open; the hinges creaks indicating that it most definitely needed to be oiled. 

You stepped inside the room, flinching when Dean flicked on the light.

The room was...well, not homey. It was basically just a military grade sleeping quarter. The bed was a single, neatly made with a grey blanket and white pillow, sheets underneath surely matching. The walls were bare, empty as can be, and although it wasn't a welcoming room, you still couldn't help but smile.

"It's kinda lame right now, but next time we get to a store we can get you some new sheets and different decorations or whatever. You can do whatever you want with the place while you're here"

Dean said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he watched you take in the bland, and tasteless room.

You'd never once been able to choose anything for your bedroom back in the palace, expert decorators telling you where everything had to be to stay on trend; this was like a breath of fresh air for you. 

"Thank you Dean"

You chirped, turning around and wrapping your arms around him tightly. You were extremely grateful over the fact that him and Sam had chosen to take you in, along with the fact that he wasn't treating you like the royal you were raised to be.

Your shoulder stretched a little and you winced, quickly letting go. You looked up, seeing his cheeks were slightly tinged with red. In confusion, you frowned, tilting your head slightly. 

"What?"

You asked, completely confused as to why he looked suddenly embarrassed. Dean cleared his throat in response, straightening his shoulders.

"I don't do hugs."

He simply said, before turning.

"I'll let you get situated and stuff, I'm gonna find a screw driver so I can take off that lock for you. I'm sure you're still tired...Sammy's already passed the fuck out and I want to as well, so the sooner that's taken care of the better."

You quickly shook your head.

"It's okay just leave it for now, there's no rush...I don't think you guys will lock me up as a prisoner"

Dean chuckled, a glint of humour in his eyes.

"You're right, we have a dungeon for that anyways."

He joked...or at least you hoped he was joking. 

"Goodnight Dean!"

You managed to squeak out, before swiftly shutting the door as he left, leaning your back against the hard surface as you tried to calm your heart. You knew he was joking about locking you in a dungeon...but what if there actually WAS a dungeon in this place. 

You glanced around the room, slowly walking to a dresser. It had a few sweaters that were much too large, but it was enough to sleep in for now, as you didn't feel like unpacking your few articles of clothing right now. 

Instead, you pulled off the clothing you were wearing, and put on one of the oversized sweaters, grateful it covered you to just above the knee. There were sweatpants in the next drawer, but they were MUCH too big, and none of which were able to be tied up - so you figured one night with your legs uncovered wouldn't be too scandalous...after all, you were a walking breathing scandal for the royal family at this point. 

You pulled back the army regulation sheets, and crawled into the bed, sighing in relief as you settled into the bed. It wasn't anywhere nearly as plush as the bed you slept in at home...but this firm mattress had a strange comforting effect on you.

You finally fell asleep, breathing in the scent of clean linens as you rested peacefully, not a single nightmare disturbing the rest of your night.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of bacon wafting through the air. You sat up, rubbing your eyes in confusion, and glanced to the left, seeing that your bedroom door was open. Your eyes drifted from the door, to the dresser, where a plastic grocery bag sat. You stood up, walking to the bag while tugging the sweatshirt down to cover your ass.

Opening the bag, you found a pair of fuzzy, light blue pajamas with cartoon, smiling elephants on them, along with some other necessities. You smiled, slipping the pajamas pants on before wandering barefoot down the hall, your footstep slaps echoing along the otherwise empty hallway.

You tried to remember the best you could how to get to the kitchen, and after a couple of wrong turns, you managed to find your way there; walking in on Dean and Sam sitting at a table, Dean reading a newspaper with an already empty plate in front of him, while Sam was munching away on his omelette. 

"Goodmorning"

You chirped, your naturally happy attitude evident; something that had been missing with you since your father had died. Perhaps being in a near death situation and marking your body directly afterward was the cure to being in a depressive slump.

"Mornin' sweetheart, want some grub?"

Dean asked, looking up briefly from the paper before returning to his reading. 

You simply nodded, pulling out a chair for yourself as you sat beside Sam and Dean. It was strange, the simplest tasks were a foreign thing to you and you'd never even realized it. You were so accustomed to people pouring your drinks, serving your food, or even pulling out your chair; that the freedom you were feeling being able to complete these tasks by yourself, it felt pretty damn great.

You scooped up some eggs and bacon, and reached for a piece of toast, holding a butter knife at an awkward angle as you tried to butter it yourself. Sam was watching you curiously, his eyes twinkling with amusement, but he didn't verbally speculate your struggles.

"Do you like the pajamas pants? Dean wanted to pick out the pink ones with cupcakes on them."

Same asked, shooting a look at Dean, who pouted a little bit.

"Pink's a better girl colour."

He defended, then frowned as you yourself shot a glare at him. You rolled your eyes, before smiling over at Sam.

"I like them a lot - I rode an elephant once, these make me think of that time."

You said, suddenly feeling nostalgic. That had been when you were simply 6 years old, your father on a royal visit to India; and you'd been allowed to ride an elephant with him. It was magical.

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking interested, but judging by the expression on your face, he thought it better to leave it alone rather than ask you for details of what riding an elephant was like.

"If you want, later today we can go back out and get you some stuff for your room...and bathroom supplies and whatever else you need."

Sam offered, that kind, puppy dog expression winning you over. You couldn't help but swoon a little over how sweet he was, but quickly shook that from your mind.

You smiled brightly at him, loving the thought of being able to buy a new toothbrush, and feminine products of course...just because it would come around sooner or later.

"I'd love that Sam, I have a little bit of money left over so I can get the basics an-"

You began, trying to think of a way to earn money so she'd be able to earn her keep, but Dean cut you off, raising both hands as the paper fell on the table.

"Girl, you're thinking too far into shit. We've got tons of credit cards, it's on us don't worry about it"

He said with a grin, and Sam chuckled as well. You looked a little confused, still not wanting to take their money.

"Don't...don't you have to pay off those credit card bills though?"

Sam snorted, Dean letting out a short laugh as well. You felt your cheeks grow hot, your gaze landing on your plate in embarrassment. You'd assumed it was just a regular question, but apparently it turned out to be a stupid one to even think of asking.

Same quickly returned to having a straight face, giving you a sympathetic look.

"Y/n, we don't use any credit cards under our names...they're all frauds." Sam explained to you gently, and you nodded, understanding. You weren't completely unaware of how fraud worked; your family had been the ones to settle many disputes over the years when things turned extremely serious. 

"Ohh, I see. Well, doesn't that potentially screw other people's credit up if it's under their name?"

You asked, pursing your lips. You didn't like the idea of stealing from people, but if it meant getting by to protect them from the real dangers of this world...well, you understood how Sam and Dean could live with themselves by continuing to pay for things via credit card fraud.

"Doesn't happen often, but if it does it sucks. We usually just make up names, more often than not it'll be TV show characters."

Dean replied, grinning ear to ear. They'd definitely had some clever references in the past, that was for sure.

So, once you'd scarfed down your food, you went with Sam in a truck to go back into town, and shop for some things. You'd borrowed a hat, able to cover your face with it's shadow while out in public, allowing you to physically go along with Sam and pick out whatever your heart desired.

After a couple of hours inside a shopping mall, you left with pants, shirts, underwear, a second pair of PJ's, and bathroom items, shower gel, face wash, toothpaste, feminine products, the whole shebang. You'd gotten a whole new bedspread too; keeping true to the elephant theme, it was an intricate pattern of elephants, a dark, rich purple with the white designs dancing along the surface of the comforter. You'd also gotten a few posters and framed pictures to hang on the walls, and a stuffed froggy, you couldn't resist. You knew if Dean had been the one to take you, he would have questioned the legitimacy of an 18 year old "needing" a stuffed frog, but Sam had caved instantly when he saw your eyes light up.

When Sam had wandered off to the book section, you'd been able to swipe one of the credit cards and made a mad dash for the party aisle, getting confetti, balloons, and a bunch of other gag stuff, even a whoopee cushion...and some whip cream from the grocery store. You'd hidden it all in time, Sam not having a clue, and you'd easily slipped the card back into his pocket.

Returning back to the bunker with Sam, you quickly took all of the bags that contained your stuff and retreated to your room, yelling that you were going to decorate, when...well, it was only half true.

You made your bed, hung up the posters and framed photos with ease, and then set to work on your plan.

You were going to start this prank war off right.

And poor Sammy was your first victim in this battle.

You had every intention of winning this, and your stubborn ass wasn't going to give up the title of prankster god without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you follow my other stories ~ the two that I've updated recently, you already know where I've been the past...oh gosh darn year and a bit.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the long absence, and without any explanation as to why. I just kind of stopped writing religiously, graduated, and have a full time job now. I'm the legal drinking age in Canada, 19, so I'm able to legally go out till 4am at clubs and party.
> 
> I've basically just been living life; but I'm getting pretty tired of being out every night off, and I've decided to really focus on getting back to what I'm passionate about; that being writing.
> 
> I've missed this so much, and I can't wait for this prank war to get started ♥ Thank you to those of you who've stuck with me through my long time gone, and thank you to the new faces who have left me kind comments and kudos in the time I've left.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm hoping to be on here much more frequently; basically writing whenever I'm at home :)
> 
> Love you guys, and thanks again ♥


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